Battle Royale: What's there to say?
by Hithereeveryoneintheworld
Summary: 60 Children, who've hardly gotten to know each other are forced into the 24th annual Battle Royale on September 8th, 2006. This story will follow Amy Firecross, Girl #30 the last girl to leave, through triumphs, and stops at the painful days that follow.
1. Introduction

We had woke up in a large room, as big as our gymnasium but with no light gravitating from the windows. We were confused, all 60 of us. Our confused and frail bodies, strewn in random yet seemingly planned spaces throughout the room. Now, we make it up onto our feet, confused by the erie silence that threatens to drive all of us crazy. One girl goes completely wild, cracking under the strangeness and the unfamiliarity of the situation, she cries and pounds the wall, and I think I'm the only one who sees her. Then, in the corner of the large room, a door opens. Leading to somewhere else.

As the students attract towards the small door, they begin to trample over one-another, almost crushing each other but keeping the situation under control. As I come into the room, standing on my toes to get a glimpse of what is in the room, I see nothing but a tiny elevator shaft in the middle; glass and transparent, except for the elevator blocking the view through the shaft. Soon everyone calms down and forms a circle around the shaft, creating air for some breathing room. A bright red spot on the floor, neatly painted, surrounds the elevator. Everyone mutters, knowledgeable of what the object before them is, but afraid to make contact with it. It becomes clear that talking isn't going to make things go any faster, and words seize to fill the small circular room.

Immediately after silence resumes, a panel on the wall slides to the side, and two soldiers in camouflage outfits, holding AK-47s step out, and then step on either side of the wall panel. All of us have moved away from the soldiers in the way we have avoided the elevator.

However, the elevator becomes the least of our worries when out of the darkness that clouds inside the wall, steps Mr. Been for the first time. Commotion arises but we all share a similar fear that if we do too much, the soldiers will use their weapons. Mr. Been's face is being veiled with sleepless nights, stress of anxiety, but you can still see the pain on his face, and you can tell he isn't happy to see us.

Some teacher, he is openly unwilling and unhappy to see the students that he taught for an entire year. Despite this, seeing an adult that I am familiar with is comforting somewhat. But I'm puzzled as to why he is here, which lingered in my mind the second I saw him, but only surfaced after I was done mulling over what a bad person he seems to be.

That's when I notice the necklace. It's wrapped loosely around my neck, but I can't take it off, and it comes close to some parts of my throat. My brain receives a shock of fear, and immediately I feel as if I'm going to vomit. I'm in Battle Royale. It explains everything, the odd caution of the students, the sickly metallic smell in the air, and the awful reasonless feeling of misery. The senseless slaughter is going to begin, and I am one of the victims.


	2. Chapter 1: The realization

"Hello class." Mr. Been says. It was the same thing he said on September 6th, the first day of school. I thought that would be the most of my worries, I didn't foresee the Battle Royale class being picked so early in the year. Perhaps that was a different dimension that they wanted to try, practical strangers fighting to the death instead of kids, maybe that would be less painful since everyone didn't know everyone. But even after only two days at school, you know that some of the kids in my class have known each other for a very, very, very long time. Fortunately, I probably won't go through this emotional trauma throughout this battle, I've hardly spoken to anyone except for one boy, who only said hi and asked where a specific room was.

"Excuse me? Where's the pre-algebra room?"

"Right over there." I said emotionlessly, pointing to the room I had actually just exited.

"Oh," he said, laughing at his own stupidity "thank you, bye."

Although it wasn't much of an encounter, it was all I had, and it even meant something to me, believe it or not. I hadn't talked to anyone except him for the two days I was in high school. Now, I will crane my neck to see what number he is, so maybe I can figure out if he doesn't die on the first day. Maybe just a few hours at most, even if I talked to him, I know him as much as the other students in this room, and besides, I only have three days once I get out there.

Mr. Been is directing us to a TV screen. Everyone knows the rules to Battle Royale, everyone's taken that weekend seminar and listened to lectures of being hauled away into some dark room with your class and being forced to fight to the death. Grim things were said in those seminar's, things I'd forget were said, but as I notice the necklace on my throat once more, I realize I have to.

"This should clear things up." Mr. Been says abruptly. I must say, I can't really argue with that.

The screen comes to life and a woman wearing an orange shirt is speaking to us in a perky accent. "Hello, 9th grade class E of the Burlington high school! You are this year's lucky class who have been picked for this year's Battle Royale.

A few students have yet to realize this, they gasp in horrified shock. Even a few screams and cries ring through the room, but it's clear that we need to pay attention, and the fear of the soldiers has not dissipated.

"I'm going to explain all the rules to you now, so you know what to do once you're released. Your name and a number will be called out, given a survival pack and you will go to the launch pad and be put in the arena. The arena is an island that was once a tourist destination, but has now been closed for Battle Royale."

All of the students are quiet now, grimly silent, waiting for the video to end.

"In the survival pack you get, there will be three full bottles of water, a map of the island you're on, a flashlight, and finally a weapon. This weapon can be a many number of things, some of you will get lucky, some will not."

A survival pack has been set before her as she explains its contents and purposes. She pulls what looks like an AK-47 out of the pack, looks down, then back up, then says. "This one is really lucky. However, you might be able to work out what kind of weapon you have before the competition starts, because the weapons are used to eliminate natural advantages."

I look around the room, there are a fair share of jocks, stocky and powerful people, both boys and girls. I must admit there are some advantages to even out.

"Over the duration of the competition, we will announce danger zone locations, which you will able to locate and mark with your map. This will come along with the names of those who have dies since the last announcement. We will also announce the times of day when the danger zones will become danger zones, so you can mark them down as well. If you are in a danger zone for too long, the necklace you are wearing will be detonated."

I feel a bit choked by the necklace at this point, and this isn't helping.

"Aside from detonating, the necklace also monitors your pulse, and records your voice and the sounds around you. However, the only thing that you should be concerned about is it detonating."

Suddenly, a reel of short movies replaces the girl on the screen. Each movie is of a contestant getting their head blown off by the necklace. Each of the clips last only a few seconds, but they each consist of the same sound _boom, boom, boom_. I'm driven nearly to madness as I cover my ears to shield myself from the sound. A small group of students, nearer to the screen found this funny, but their laughs are quiet and nervous. Finally the noise stops and the video resumes.

"If you attempt to remove the necklace, it will be detonated, if you attempt to escape the island the device will be detonated, if you attempt to…" on and on she drones about all of the things that will result in the disappearance of your head. She stops the rundown of hazards then, and looks directly at the camera and says very clearly and slowly.

"Also, all of you will be given three days to fight until a single contestant remains. If that has not happened by then, all of the living contestants devices will be detonated, and there will be no final contestant. So make sure that doesn't happen, and fight hard, and good luck."

The screen goes dark and I'm left to fend for myself once more.


End file.
